Absolution
by Anita-Louise
Summary: Kate kept her hand in her pocket, clinging to the tiny model plane, a constant reminder of a past she’d rather forget.
1. Chapter 1

-1**Title: **Absolution

**Author: **Anita-Louise

**Rating:** PG-13

**Pairing: **Jack/Kate

**Summary: **Kate kept her hand in her pocket, clinging to the tiny model plane, a constant reminder of a past she'd rather forget.

**Thanks: **To Sarah for her amazing beta.

She stirred slightly when she felt the cool waves come and lap at her toes, which curled beneath her reflexively. Kate kept her hand in her pocket, clinging to the tiny model plane, a constant reminder of a past she'd rather forget. It was her touchstone, her last tenuous connection to Tom and the life she knew she could never quite leave behind.

The beach was nearly deserted. All the other survivors had congregated at the caves to hear about Michael's decision to enter the jungle and look for Walt. Even Sawyer had made the effort to drag himself up to the damp caves, though why she didn't know. It wasn't as if it was of any personal gain for him. The dank and claustrophobic meeting sounded like more than she could bear, so she had lingered behind, pretending to search for something in her tent, giving a non-committal murmur when Charlie had asked her if she was coming. Judging by the looks that some of the survivors persisted in giving her, they hadn't forgotten the revelation of her past that Sawyer had helpfully given. In actual fact, they were probably as relieved not to have her in their midst as she was not to be there.

She looked back out over the ocean and stared into the mournful depths, half hoping to spy a ship on the horizon, not caring as to the repercussions of this and that a rescue meant she would be unlikely to evade the long arm of the law this time. Even prison would be better than this hell in paradise. Being on the island had numbed her; polar bears on a tropical island, Dharma and the mystery of the hatch, Danielle and Desmond, The Others, the constant animosity of Jack and Sawyer and the looks in both of their eyes when they looked down on her… She felt no remorse at playing Sawyer - she knew the power of the bat of an eyelash or the hint of a smile. It was a game of penny-ante heartache that she played to win. Sawyer understood that. But Jack. Jack took everything so seriously. She hated to hurt him, but he just kept coming back for more.

She thought of Sawyer, and her heart constricted. She knew that he felt something intense for her, be it love or something else, but couldn't bring herself to return the sentiment. As she had told him in the hatch, he reminded her of Wayne and of something else, something that disgusted and horrified her. True, she felt attraction to the man, (what red-blooded woman wouldn't?) but he would always represent running: running from the law, running from her past, and running from herself. He shared a criminal connection to her, and his supposed knowledge about her past scared her. What else did he know?

Her thoughts then drifted to Jack, and a smile crossed her lips. Sweet, noble Jack. Again, there was attraction like with Sawyer, but her pulse didn't race when she was near the southerner. When he touched her, her heart didn't skip a beat. Yes, Jack had the ability to make her as Sawyer had wonderfully put, "weak at the loins."And although she wasn't a romantic at heart, secretly she loved it. She hadn't felt giddy and breathless in years, not since Tom had married. She missed the feeling of it, missed being allowed to feel like a woman rather than a dangerous convict.

She thought back to their kiss that had happened barely two days ago, and her tentative smile grew wider. The memory of Jack's eager lips upon hers'made her pulse flutter.

She hadn't meant to run away. Honestly, she hadn't meant to kiss him in the first place. But the tenderness in his eyes and the security she felt when he took her in his arms had impelled her to act. Then, when his lips touched hers so urgently, for a moment, it was more than a game. For a moment, she was just a woman, limp and helpless in a man's strong embrace. That helplessness had frightened her. It was vulnerability, not Jack from which she fled. Whether it had been the right course or not, she didn't know. Her mind told her one thing and her heart told her another.

Jack reminded her of Tom in many ways. It was probably as much a reason she was attracted to him as it was a reason she'd run from him. True, they were both doctors and kind men, but it ran deeper than that. They both viewed the world in black and white with no grey shades in between: Tom wouldn't accept her as anything but Katie the girl that he grew up with, and though Jack wanted to, he couldn't see past the fact that she was a criminal, despite him trying profusely to understand why she was the way that she was.

She wondered if he, like Sawyer, had guessed to what she had done. She wondered if he listened to the island gossip, and the mumbled theories about her transgression. She wondered if he would look at her differently if he ever found out. Tom had always been able to guess what she was feeling or thinking - mostly an annoyance when she was younger, but an endearing trait nonetheless.

She was drawn to men like Jack and Tom; she liked feeling protected and loved. And although she was sure Sawyer could show a girl a good time, he wouldn't ever be like her father -the real one - the scale that she subconsciously graded men upon.

Kate tenderly caressed the plane still in her pocket. Carefully, she took it out and brought it close to her face. Why was she so desperate to hold onto such a tiny, insignificant object? Why was she so desperate to hold onto the past when she could obviously have a future, in the one place in the world that she could be 'free'. The plane, that damn plane, symbolized everything that she wanted to be. And it also symbolized everything that she never could be, regardless of what Jack (and Tom for that matter) had thought.

The past or the future. Tom or Jack.

In one hand she held Tom, and in the other - Jack, his fingers curling gently around hers, enticing her palm with languorous strokes. She leaned into him weakly, his appearance sudden, but not unexpected.

"Hey."

"Hey." she echoed.


	2. Chapter 2

They both stared out at the darkening ocean, their silence neither easy nor uncomfortable. Just silence. Acceptance. His fingers still stroking their delicate path across hers. They didn't discuss the kiss, they didn't discuss him and her and they didn't discuss Sawyer or Ana-Lucia. They just stood there together, long until the sun had set, and the voices of the other camp members died away as sleep overcame them.

The moon was high and bright in the midnight-blue sky. It's light filtered down through the sparse coconut palms, casting jagged shadows across both their faces. Kate watched him out of the corner of her eye and calm enveloped her, as she felt herself lean further into the security of his chest.

She waited for some sign of hesitation, a tensing of his muscles, but none came and another fleeting smile crossed her features. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and played absentmindedly with the hem of her shirt, though for no sexual gain.

For the third time that night she placed her hand into her pocket, withdrew the plane and held it up so that they could both admire it. Jack shifted beside her, and she tried to nestle closer to the warmth of his body.

"Do you know what this is, Jack?" she looked up and back over her shoulder as she asked.

"It's from the Marshall's case--"

"No. Do you know what it is?"

"You said it belonged to the man you…" He trailed off, clearly not wanting to continue.

"His name was Tom, my first love," she smiled ruefully, thinking back to when times were more innocent.

She noted that Jack remained silent, an ironic smile pasted across his face - perhaps remembering a first love, and the hurt and disappointment that came with it.

"Did you ever love anyone, Jack?"

"Yes."

"--What was she like?"

"She was--" he sighed, shifting his feet as if uncomfortable. "It was Sarah. What does it matter, anyway?"

"No reason."

She heard Jack sigh exasperatedly beside her, licking his lips agitatedly, and his hand abruptly dropped hers. The calmness that they had enjoyed throughout the evening had lifted and the tension was back. She matched his sigh with one of her own, mentally preparing herself for another argument.

"No reason, Kate? Then tell me, because I really want to know. Why do you want to know so damn much about me, when I obviously mean nothing to you? When have you ever been straight with me?"

At this, she raised her eyes in disbelief. "Is that what you think?" she asked, her brows knitting in annoyance and disbelief. Perhaps at the beginning when Sawyer first showed interest in her, sure, he might have deduced though that she cared more for Sawyer than for him, but now?

When Sawyer had left on the raft, she had felt an invisible burden lift off of her, and for the first time in months, she had managed to laugh easily. She noticed the same for Jack, too. She had noticed the knowing glances that Sun, Charlie and Hurley had thrown at the two of them - the three were shrewder than she had originally supposed, during their spontaneous golfing 'match'. They had bantered and flirted, (yes, Jack Shepherd was fully capable of flirting, much to her delight) and laughed at his inability to hide his exasperation over at losing to a girl.

Then Sawyer came back.

He came back, and once again the air was heavy with uncertainty. She felt immediate guilt at her light-heartedness and ease of mind, while he had been on the other side of the island dying and rebuked herself for caring as much as she did. It was like he was a drug, and she an addict. She just couldn't let him go. And although Jack thought he was good at masking his feelings, she didn't miss the crease in his brow and the hitch in his breath as she tried to coerce Sawyer into taking the medication, using the only true method she knew - using his affection to her advantage. So she kissed his brow and whispered words of encouragement into his ear, and somehow he heard them and listened to her.

At the same time, she wanted to scream at Jack not to listen to her lies, her deceit.

"… Kate? You're never straight with me. You're always playing games." His voice brought her out of her memory, and she stared up at him with wide eyes.

"I don't mean to. It's just… you're too good for me, Jack." she stated bluntly, suddenly coming to the realization. She continued, "…You seem to think that I am something that I'm not, something that I'll probably never be. I can't be your Sarah, just like I couldn't be Tom's Katie."

"I--"

"No, let me finish - let me get this out." She paused collecting her thoughts before continuing with a deep breath: "I keep thinking back to the day that… And

I wonder why I kissed you, and I know that you've wondered too. Why that moment? Why then? It was that look you had in your eyes, that one you're wearing right now. And it was the way you held me. That's why I kissed you. You and your damn 'I'll fix it' look. And damned if I didn't want to collapse right there in your arms and let you try to make it all better. But you can't fix me Jack, because you can't change the way that I am, what I am. What it comes down to is that when I kissed you, I wished that I weren't me.

Because you want and you deserve something else and want and need something different from me; something that I can never possibly give you…something better." She broke off tearfully, cursing the tears that clouded her vision.

"Just tell me what you did." Jack pleaded with her, and she noticed the change once again in his expression. The anger had ebbed away, and his eyes were tender once more.

She laughed gently through her tears before answering him, "I don't even know where to begin. Jack, you live your life in clear-cut lines - everything is black and white, and mine is nothing but shades of grey."

"I've done some bad things-some that I am ashamed of, some that I'm not, and for anyone to be in a relationship with me, they'd just have to accept that; take me as I am. Tom struggled to do that. In the end…he couldn't, so he left me and moved on with his life.

How long would it be before you left, Jack? Could you accept me, trust me as I am?"

She saw him look down into the sand and sigh resignedly, accepting that she wasn't going to tell him - not yet. He then brought his view back up to hers and stared deeply into her eyes.

"Kate, you've lied to me a lot. And I can't say that it doesn't bother me, because it does. I can forgive that, but I need to know that you're ready to move on. You're still so young, but you've experienced so much, so many things that I won't even try to understand, because as you say, I can't. But you're still here holding onto a plane that belonged to someone who's dead. Why, Kate? Just let it go. Let the past go."

He picked up her hand, the same one that clung on desperately to the toy plane, and gripped it tightly.

"This is the past, Kate. And I… we're the future if that's what you want." He shook her hand gently, "let it go."

Kate felt her lip tremble and bit forcefully down onto it to stop the tremor, thankful that no one but Jack was around to see her childish tears. She untangled her fingers from his, and took one last glance at the plane before casting it into the tranquil depths, feeling a sudden wave of panic envelope her as she did so. Then, as she melted into Jack's embrace, serenity eased into her mind, drawing her attention away from the waves and filling the void left by Tom and his plane.

They stood there, each soothing one another throughout the night, and until the first rays of dawn touched the ocean turning it a fiery red. They stood there and let the incoming tide wash away their fears and the first morning light illuminate their hopes. They stood there together, facing a dawn of absolution.

* * *

Finis.


End file.
